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[Adventure] The Sibylline Idol (Judge covaithe)

The Sibylline Idol

Unearthed from the darkest, twisted pits a malignant force is unknowingly unleashed upon Daunton by one of the adventurers that the small city seeks to attract. Our heroes must unravel a mysterious death that could threaten the sanity of the entire island. The Sibylline Idol will thrust the heroes into an occult world that dates back before the founding of the Imperium.

Hired by Astrepius Sicilus, occultist sage and researcher at the Daunton, four are soon to be joined by a fifth. The opening scene at the Hanged Man is one of anticipation and excitement as new adventurers begin work on a new venture that none of them yet understand.

From the Hanged Man

The door to the Hanged Man opens again this time ushering in a elderly gentleman. "Things have gotten a little slower than days of old, hrm..." he says under his breath as he slowly makes his way across the room. The man leans on his sturdy hardwood cane as his tan robes shuffle across the sandy floor. The man's hair is long-ish and quite grey though it is well groomed and not the least bit frizzled.

Clearing his throat as he stands near the far end of the bar near to a small stage or platform (though not on it), he commences, "Attention all, I have need of a few good souls who might help me in solving a mystery most distressing." He clears his throat again, his voice clouded. "This place used to have all sorts of up and comers, why Mauros and Aurelia met here once, before the Brotherhood started the what not if I remember correctly." Coughing slightly, the old sage thanks the barkeep as he is passed a glass of water and adjusts the spectacles adorning his hawkish nose.

Continuing, "Now where was I? Oh yes, I have a rather specific request though should any knowledgable of the Imperium be available for work." he stops again and sips his water. "Oh here, where are my manners, I am the Sage Astrepius Sicilus. My research tends to veer into the occult especially after the Brotherhood was stopped by the five so very recently. I've come upon a rather puzzling, and some might say ominously portentous, quandary and I have need of some assistance."

He stops there to clear his throat and see if any of the assembled adventurers are interested. His dark grey eyes scan the crowd (?) quite focused and intent in spite of any symptoms of age his frame would suggest.

A tall and unusual muscular eladrin enters the tavern right behind the sage. He has the gaze of someone who has already seen enough [...] for several lifetimes. His silvery hair flows freely as he looks around with vibrant blue eyes."My name is Riardon d'Cealis. Former captain of the imperial guard. You should choose me, if you seek something with knowledge about the Imperium."

As the old man spoke of the Five, the Brotherhood, and doom, the fires occasionally running along the warforged's visible frame flared, the smell of sizzling wood becomes stronger were his now smoking hands met the table. To the shifter, all he said was, That which I am waiting for has arrived.

The red-purple garbed warforged made its way purposefully to the old man. Astrepius Sicilus. You speak of the Brotherhood, and the doom of the Five. You speak to my calling. I was made to serve. He does a slight bow, but keeps his head in shadow. I insist that I serve you in this matter.

Dalzim drinks his strawberry liquor listening to the old sage. When he is over speaking, the gnome jumps from his chair, and approach the old man "Ah! an honorable quest, for a big soul encased on a small body. Dalzim Zalimock, at your service my good man, you can count with my arcane winds."

Rurdev takes a seat across from the warforged, steepling his fingers as if pondering a question. When the gnome walks in, Rurdev looks up with interest, wondering if he knows the fellow. Rurdev lived in a gnome village some time after being exiled. No, I would definately remember that one, he thinks.

When the sage enters, Rurdev looks up at the old man. Seeing his acquaintance offer his services, followed by the gnome, Rurdev speaks. "What is t-t-the mystery in q-q-question? I-I may have skills that may be of u-u-u-use." The shifter licks his lips after each stutter. He is asking more out of curiousity than anything else. The three that offered their services did so very quickly and without question. Should he trust the man as well? Perhaps the return to his tribe would be sooner than he thought.

The old gentleman watches as each of the adventurers in the room offer their services for his investigation, "Thank you all for your interest. Riardon, your assistance will be most welcome as I do have questions around the Imperium. Incarnation, you seem to have a personal interest that could be quite valuable. Rurdev, I have some hint that you may want to be involved for other reasons that we'll get into in a moment. Dalzim, I wonder if your arcane background might be of some use as well." he says before taking a pause to take another drink of water.

"Skaliss and Steppyn thank you both for your interest and I wish you well but I think these four will cover my investigation." he says to the other two who offered their services.

"It seems my tales will have to wait until my return my dragonborn friend." Dalzim pats Skalis in his knee, since it's the only part of the dragonborn's body he can reach. He turns to the old man [COLOR=rgb(153, 50, 204)]"Thanks for your vote of confidence, I look forward to probe the use of my knowledge to you good sir"[/COLOR]

Rurdev growled under his breath and licked at the foam that was gathered at the corners of his mouth. He wasn't a patient one, and the sage's cryptic comments only bothered him more. He turns to the bartender, "A round for the five of us...and whatever he wants," he says, forgetting momentarily that Incarnation didn't need anything.

Incarnation looks at the shifter impassively, but makes no move to order anything.

"I have already drank enough for tonight my brand new friend." Dalzim smiles. He looks quizzically at Rurdev for a moment."I think I might knew some of your kind, from my times in the forests. Oh, so long ago, I wont be able to recognize you I think, even if you lived in the branch over mine." the small gnome laughs and his belly shakes with the sudden motion.

"F-F-Fine then, more for m-m-me." Rurdev's features relax somewhat, as he nails drag across the wooden table. "Now speak, s-s-sage."

Posting & Rolling

I invite all of you to roll as much as you are comfortable with in Invisible Castle. At times I'll ask for you to provide various rolls such as perception, intuition, arcane, religion, checks at your request, and the like. I ask that you post at least 1/day during the week as I will try to keep that schedule as well. If you anticipate absences longer than a couple of days let me know in advance and I'll NPC you as you specify.

In combat, that will continue, though if someone is slow in posting I will NPC them for that round. I will ask that you provide combat stats in an out of character comment (in sblocks or not) including hit points and defenses, as well as any ongoing effects. When preforming an action (such as attacking) please post your attack stat.

All of this is to make combat as smooth as possible for all of us while giving me the power to control the flow of things if necessary.

"Perhaps we could retire to my study where I'll be more able to elucidate the conundrum which I face. An associate of mine, a shifter like yourself Rurdev, was found murdered this morning. I need some help to look after his affairs, particularly in regards to objects that were missing following the murder. I suspect that the objects were the target and his murder was simply convenient for the would-be thief." offers Astrepius to the assembled crew.

Provided everyone has finished imbibing the last of Rurdev's round of drinks, the elderly sage bent from time, leads the group slowly out of the Hanged Man towards the academic district of Daunton. The sun has begun to set behind the western hills of the island and twilight is setting in. Lamp-lighters are making their rounds in the academic quarter, lighting the oil lamps every couple of blocks.

The small gnome follows the group, taking small jumps occasionally.
Each jump he does, reveals something under his hat, that, due to the momentum, remains in the air for brief seconds. There is something shiny and yellow under his big green hat.

Rurdev

"A s-s-shifter! From what village?" Rurdev exclaims. His thoughts wonder if he came from his village. Did he know me? Will solving this mystery lead me to honor among my people once more? Honor enough to return to my village? The warrior follows along, his loping stride hard to match by those following.

As the group follows the old man slowly up the street he continues in the same clouded voice, "His name was Rosvodiz. I'm not sure what village he was from. He didn't say." His sentences are short and wheezing as he continues shuffling along. "It's not much further." he says. And indeed his statement proves true despite anyone's doubt that it would take forever at the pace the old sage set.

The group approaches a simple two story wooden building sandwiched between two very similar buildings. Little identifies the place as either scholarly or a place of business. Astrepius opens the door and leads the four of you into a small ground floor room. There is a couple of small candles in a sitting room on the ground floor and a set of stairs leading up to the second. The air is heavy with both strange incenses and smoke (the source of the old man's coughing appears to be more than just age). In the sitting room are a few large comfortable chairs and several books piled in very neat piles around the room. The candles rest on a short table in between the chairs.

The old sage coughs again as the group enters, "Please come in and sit. I need to fix myself a tea to take care of this. I'll only be a few moments."

Rurdev

You do know of Rosvodiz. He was a shifter from your village who left almost 20 years ago. There were some suspicions around his departure, though he was not exiled like you were. Talk died down as people largely forgot about him. He was a skinny shifter who was known for keeping to himself for the most part.

Rurdev comes in, and sits in a chair furthest from the incense. His keen senses felt muted by the smoke and incense. His mind is racing. What was this shifter hiding? Will it help or hinder my chances to return home if I figure out what is going on? Why did he leave?...

Unaffected by smoke or incense, Incarnation chooses not to sit. Instead, he walks around the room, casually picking up books. He examines one, flips a few pages, puts it down, then moves on to the next as if categorizing them.